


There Is Blood On His Hands

by sirknightmordred



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirknightmordred/pseuds/sirknightmordred
Summary: Literally.





	There Is Blood On His Hands

There is blood on his hands, literally. He wipes at his face and it keeps coming and coming. The blood isn’t his, no of course not, only the blood of the man shot in front of him. After it happened he was frozen, unable to move or breathe until Liv called his name a few times, forcing him to snap out of the stupor he was in. She checked on the victim, on the guy shot, while Carisi did his best to not fall over or something to that effect. Pretty soon another cop shows up and leads him out of the house. He thought Liv would do that, maybe, but she was with the victim.

That same cop drove him home after the whole ordeal, she was nice and offered to get him a cup of Joe or maybe something to eat but Sonny declined with a shake of his head. When they got his apartment he had trouble opening the door, his hands were frozen, not shaking like he would have thought, but frozen almost like he had been out in the cold too long. The cop reached over and ended up unlocking the door for him. She asked once again if there was anything she could, maybe there’s somebody she could call for him, but he said no by the way of shaking his head once again. He couldn’t really speak yet.

With a frown she lets him leave her car and he walks up to the building, opening the door this time with less resistance from his almost immobile hands. Once in the building, in the warmness of it all, he sighs in relief and walks up to his place. When he’s inside he locks the door and makes his way to the bathroom, not doing anything else he makes his way to the sink and that’s when the blood finds its way to his hands. He had wiped off some of it in the car with the other cop, Andrea’s, he thinks he remembers her saying, assistance, but clearly much of it was not removed.

His phones starts to ring and he sighs. He presses ignore and leaves the bathroom, walking to his bedroom with heavy feet. Once he gets there, he lays on the bed, shoes, jacket, and his work clothes still on. Some blood still no doubly still smeared on his face, but he doesn’t care. It’s out of sight, out of mind, right? Besides, his hands are clean, he can pretend he’s clean. He inhales the smell from his pillow, feeling the comforting scent of Rafael’s cologne. He squeezes the pillow close to him and close his eyes, pretending it’s him. The small thought of maybe he should call him passes through his mind, but he decides against it. He’s at the office after all, and he doesn’t like interruptions. 

If he wasn’t so out of his head right now, he probably would have remembered the time he said he doesn’t mind his interruptions, or something like that anyway. As it is, he isn’t in his head, in his right mind, so he squeezes his eyes shut even tighter and holds the pillow close as he drifts into unconsciousness. He’s not even that tired, but his body is, it sags and relaxes as he feels himself finally come to the conclusion that he safe. No people dying in front of him now, he’s alone and he’s safe. Hell, his gun is still attached to his hip just in case.

With that final thought, he falls fast asleep, into dreams of movements and colors that hardly distinguishable from reality to truth. The only thing that is apparent in the pictures in his mind as he slumbers, is the bright red.

…

“Sonny.” A voice whispers gently.

Carisi hears it, but it’s climbing into his dreams, with the blood, so when he opens his eyes his hand is already at his gun. He picks it up, flicking the safety off, finger on the trigger as he points it at the unsuspecting person.

“Sonny.” This time the voice is more urgent as Carisi tries to get his bearings. “Put down the gun, it’s just me.”

“Rafael.” Carisi says, recognizing who it is, but still with some confusion.

“That’s right, Sonny, it’s me. Now please, put down the gun.”

Carisi’s eyes widen as he flicks the safety on, putting the gun down on the nightstand and back up on the bed as far as possible. His legs are held to his chest as his head goes into his hands. He’s in shock and feel the stunning horror of what he did, what he could have done. He starts whispering, “Sorry, Sorry, God, I’m so sorry” over and over as Barba tries to gently approach him, hands held out like he’s approaching a spooked bear.

“It’s okay, Sonny.” Barba tells him, “Liv told me what happened, I got here as soon as I could. You should have called me.”

“I’m sorry.” Carisi whispers as Barba gets close enough to sit on the bed beside him.

“Sonny, look at me.”

He does just that, tearful eyes meeting Barba’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Barba says. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And what happened just now with the gun pointing at me, I know you didn’t mean to and you know that as well. But we can talk about that later. I think you could use a shower and some food. When’s the last time that you ate?”

“I…” Carisi says, unsure.

“That’s okay, mi amor. Do you want to have a shower or eat first?”

“Shower.” He answers in a hoarse whisper.

“Okay.” Barba says with a sad smile. “Can I touch you?”

Carisi nods his head, his eyes shifting from Barba’s to the bed. Barba reaches out with his hand and touches Carisi softly on his cheek, making the detective close his eyes in what’s almost relief. Without thinking he leans in and rests his head on Barba’s chest as the counselor wraps his arms around him. Without even realizing it, he starts to cry, sob almost as Barba shushes him and rubs his back gently. He tells him that it’s going to be okay, that it’s okay to feel these things, because Barba knows Carisi will beat himself up on how he could have changed things. How it’s his fault even though it’s clearly not. How sensitive he is, how this will affect him as all cases do, for many months to come.

“Shh… It’s okay, it’s okay, Sonny. I’ve got you.” He whispers.

Carisi, still not being able to find the talk, to find the right words only hugs Barba closer, relishing in the comfort.


End file.
